I got this idea after reading Someone Like You by Sarah Dessen. But mind you, the ONLY similarity between this fanfiction and Someone Like You is the idea of someone who connected everyone together dying, and the title. I love that title, and Sarah Dessen's book isn't the only thing called by that title. Also, this is a multi-chapter fanfiction, told in Wendy's Point-of-view. There will be gay, lesbian, and straight couples throughout the story. If you don't like it, don't read it, simple as that.

And to see what the characters look like in this fic, visit this link (replace all the (dot) with an actual period):

http://s986(dot)photobucket(dot)com/albums/ae348/CraigFxckerrxx/Someone%20Like%20You/

It will be updated as more characters come in.

~.::.~

So live like you mean it

Love 'til you feel it

It's all that we need in our lives

It was 11:35 when Stan called me.

"Stan?" I said groggily. "It's the middle of the night."

"Wendy..." Stan's voice was just a shaky whisper. "It's Kyle."

"What?" I sat up almost immediatly, feeling like I was going to throw up. "What happened with Kyle?"

"K-kyle... Kyle's dead."

~.::.~

I was down the street and knocking on Stan's door in a heartbeat. My stomach was in knots, and my eyes were stinging but I was too shocked to cry. I ran my fingers through my bangs, but I was suddenly too weak to move.

The door opened, revealing my best friend, Stan Marsh. His long, choppy black hair that usually frames his face to make him look so beyond gorgeous was messy, his chrystal blue eyes were red from sobbing. He came outside, walking past me and sitting on his porch swing. I sat right beside him.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

Stan rested his head on my shoulder, his body shaking from the muffled crying. The golden band on his finger caught the moonlight, and just seeing the word 'Forever' imbedded in it made my eyes tear.

Stan sat up, wiping his eyes on his sleeve, his breathing still short and shakey. "Me and K-kyle..." He whispered. "We were going to get married, ya' know..."

I didn't say anything. I knew he was going to continue.

"This ring..." He held up his hand, pointing to the golden ring on his third finger and sniffling. "It's an engagement ring. He proposed two days ago... hell, we were even going to prom together..."

"That's so sweet." I said, my lips twitching back into a small smile.

Stan touched his fingertips to his lips, licking his lips. "I wish I could just kiss him once last time..."

Stan sighed again, and even in the dark, I could see the tears rolling down his face, his fingers still touching his lips, hoping for one last taste of Kyle Broflovski.

~.::.~

I woke up the next morning in my own bed, my cheeks tear-stained for some reason. I looked around my room. Walls still purple, those same Jack's Mannequin and Mayday Parade posters on my walls. That same corkboard tacked with tons of photos hanging proudly over my vanity.

I got up, admiring the photos, looking over each memory I captured until my eyes stopped on one photo.

It was a picture I took two weeks ago, on a rare hot day in February. It was a picture of Stan and Kyle, taken at Stark's Pond. The sun was giving the photo a sort of holga-vintage look, with the lake shimmering behind them. Stan was smiling, his arm wrapped around Kyle's waist, both of them wearing white t-shirts. Kyle wasn't looking at the camera; he was looking at Stan. His bright green eyes were staring right at Stan, a big smile on his lips, his silky, orange curls shining. Just the look on Kyle's face could move you to tears. The look of pure love, the look that makes you think they were the only two people on the planet. The way Kyle was looking at him... I've never seen anyone look at someone that way in my entire sixteen years of life.

I pressed my lips together, wondering if I had ever given Stan and Kyle a copy. I grabbed it anyway. I turned way from the board, walking over to my dresser and throwing on skinny jeans and a tye-dye t-shirt. I walked over to the bathroom, brushing my teeth and brushing out my long, black hair. I went down the stairs, two at a time.

"Oh, honey..." My parents came at me, immediatly hugging me.

"What?" I asked.

My family and I aren't the huggy-huggy-kissy-goo-goo type of All-American family you always see on sitcoms. My father is a college professor at the Denver college, and my mother is a famous romantic novel author. She's always making appearences on T.V. shows and what-not, and my relationship with my parents is strictly academic. So the fact that they called me something other than 'Wendy' and are hugging me is pretty weird.

"We just heard about Kyle." My mom said.

Then it hit me. Last night wasn't a dream. Kyle is dead.

My breath caught it my throat, and my body went rigid. My eyes were stinging and I could feel the tears rolling down my cheeks. Kyle is dead.

"We're so sorry, honey..." My dad smoothed my hair. "We know how much you loved that boy."

"We're just friends," I choke out. "I mean, we... we were..."

My parents always thought Kyle and I had a thing for each other because I'd always hang out with him and Stan. The truth is that Stan and Kyle have been together since the eigth grade. They were just too scared to tell everyone. We had become closer over the years after Kenny abandoned Stan and Bebe abandoned me. The only thing connecting us, connecting everyone was Kyle Broflovski.

Kyle was the one thing everyone had in common. It didn't matter who you were or what you did, you were friends with Kyle. There wasn't one person who didn't like Kyle. Except for Cartman, but he doesn't like anyone. Kyle connected everyone together. There was this one time last year at the eleventh grade dance where they were announcing Ice Ball King and Queen nominees. The whole grade was there, clapping or booing when someone's name was called. When Kyle's name was called, the whole gymnasium errupted in clapping and cheering. Kyle had walked on stage, beet red, people cheering even louder.

I stood there, gasping for air as my parents explained that his funeral was later today, and to get ready.

While I was back in my room, slipping on a black ruffly dress that fell two inches above my knees and black heels, I turned on the T.V. just as the news came on, an accident video playing behind the broad-caster, Kyle's face in the little box on the top right-hand corner.

"Sixteen year old Kyle Broflovski died minutes after impact after colliding with friend Kenny McCormick's car late Friday night. McCormick suffered minor injuries. Tune in at eleven for the full story."

I turned away from the T.V., blocking out the anchor woman's voice and focusing on brushing out my hair. I didn't put on any make-up; my tears would smear it anyway.

"Wendy!" I heard my mom call up the stairs.

I looked again in the mirror before going downstairs, arms crossed, ignoring my parents as I got in the backseat of our Acura.

Kyle is dead. Even though I saw the accident on T.V. and heard it from Stan, I was hoping Kyle would jump up and yell 'Gotcha!' and we'd all laugh. I was scared, too. I never dealt with death, especially not someone that was so important to me. I was closer to Kyle than anyone in my family.

We got to the church, and I saw cars parked down the block and a lot of people walking inside.

I waited until my dad stopped for me to get out, waving them off. I swallowed the lump in my throat, walking up the steps. I pushed open the large doors, and I literally gasped when I saw how many people were there. The seats were packed, with everyone who didn't have a seat standing. The isle was cleared, and I squeezed people, craning my neck to look for Stan.

I found him almost immediatly. He was sitting in the front booth with the Broflovskis, the only booth not packed. As I walk toward him, I noticed everyone in my small high school is here. Everyone. Kyle, like I said, is the one thing everyone has in common.

Mrs. Broflovski saw me before Stan did.

"Oh Wendy, dahling!' She bulbbered, choking me in a death grip-hug.

I hugged back. Mrs. Broflovski is like my second mom. I can't even count all the nights I spent the night at her house with Kyle and Stan, how many times she'd pick me up and drop me off for whatever it was over the years, even if was just picking me up from the mall because my mother was off in Los Angeles.

Mr. Broflovski finally pulled her off, sitting her at the end of the row. I slid in next to Stan.

"Hey." I said.

Stan looked up at me. His eyes were all puffy and red from crying.

"Hey," he said weakly.

"You okay?" I asked.

Before Stan could answer, Ike flew across the row and landed in my lap. I wrapped my arms around him in a hug almost by instinct. Ike is basically my little brother. Ike is really small for a thirteen year old, so I could practically wrap my arms around him twice. He sobbed into my collar bone.

"I miss Kyle!" He wailed.

I didn't say anything, I just pet his silky black hair. I looked around at who was here. I spotted Bebe sobbing between Red and Millie. Bebe's always been heels over head for Kyle, even went with him to some school dances while I went with Stan. Of course, she didn't know he was gay. I'm the only person who knows about Stan and Kyle.

Near the back, I saw Kenny McCormick. He was wearing a big black hoodie, and I almost didn't recognize it was him. His hood was up, and he was looking down, arms crossed. His dirty blonde shaggy choppy hair was covering his eyes, but even then I could tell he was crying.

Kenny had faed away from Stan the same way Bebe faded away from me. He started hanging out with Clyde, Damien, and Christophe more. Him and Stan faded, be always stayed close friends with Kyle. He'd sometimes sit at our lunch table just for Kyle. Kenny's a nice guy, he didn't ignore Stan and I, but he'd mostly talk to Kyle.

The funeral started, but my mind was elsewhere. I was making up little scenerios in my head where the doors would open, Kyle standing there. He'd smile that one-thousand watt smile of his, and everything would be alright.

I came back to reality when people were going up to say some things about Kyle. I saw a short, low-cut black dress and a head of blonde hair, and I knew it was Bebe.

She stood up in front of everyone, chrystal blue eyes crying rivers, red lips pursed, and began.

"I've known Kyle since third grade when our teacher assigned us to work together. From the second I laid eyes on his ass, I knew we had to be together. I even lost my first kiss to him during Truth or Dare. I've always loved him, and I'm happy to say I was able to call him my date on multiple occasions. I love Kyle Broflovski, may he rest in peace."

People clapped, and Bebe walked back to her seat. I smiled at her, but she barely even glanced my way.

I'm not a good public speaker. Hard to believe, since I'm the Class President, and have been so since third grade. Now, of course, I'm head of Student Council, but whatever. I'm a pen and paper kind of girl. I choke if my speech isn't pre-prepared. I highly doubt I'd be able to gup there and not burst into tears or choke and stutter like crazy. Plus, Ike is firmly planted in my lap. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon.

After a bunch more people, I was shocked to see Stan up there, hands in his pockets.

He cleared his throat. "Kyle's my best friend. Ever since we met in pre-k, we've been Super Best Friends. We've been together through everything. Hell, I even went to Hell and back to get him a kidney. But... Kyle wasn't just my best friend."

I felt my breath catch in my throat. He was finally coming out. I was worried, already knowing everyone was expecting a whole 'he was a brother to me' speech to pass through Stan's lips, and Stan and I are the only people in this whole chapel who know what's he really going to say.

Stan licked his lips nervously. "Kyle was more than that. Kyle was my boyfriend."

Shocked gasps and hushed murmuring fell over everyone. I glanced to my right to see Mrs. Broflovski's eyes bulging out of her head, her jaw dropped. Mr. Broflovski wore the same expression.

"To be exact... Kyle was my fiancee." Stan held up his hand for proof, the 'Forever' ring on his ring finger. "We've been together since the eigth grade. We were always afraid to tell anyone; we were scared that we'd be seperated. I've never felt the same way around anyone than I have Kyle. He made me feel... God, words can't describe how I felt. When he kissed me, I got everything you're supposed to get when you kiss someone. My head was spinning, sparks shot up my body, and my knees went all jelloid, and butterflies errupted in my stomach. I was on Cloud Nine when he held my hand, and I honestly stopped breathing if he even looked at me.

"We got together on December twenty-fourth in eigth grade. It was at Token's Christmas party, and we were walking home afterwards. I had Kyle walk me home, and when we got to my doorstep, we both looked up to see a mistletoe hanging over us. Kyle's face turned beat red, and he leaned in and kissed me. Fireworks went off, and as soon as he pulled away... I threw up."

There was a murmur of chuckling, even from myself. That's something Stan's famous for. If he like-likes someone, he throws up on them. I should know, I spent a majority of my childhood washing Stan's sick out of my hair.

"When I threw up on him, I knew I liked him. He didn't even get mad or anything; he smiled and said 'I have the cutest boyfriend'. I nearly threw-up again, knowing Kyle felt the same way about me. He gave me a little kiss on the mouth and left after that. We've been together since then."

Stan sighed, his breath coming out all shaky. He chewed his lip nervously, blinking a couple times at an attempt to hold back his tears. He was failing.

"I don't think I can ever love anyone as much as I love Kyle Broflovski."

Stan walked back down to our row, sliding in next to me. The Broflovskis stared at him in utter shock, and as I looked around, I noticed people were whispering to each other and starting at Stan.I spotted Bebe wedged between Red and Milly, her cherry red lips a perfect 'o', her face bright red. It must be hard finding out the guy you've been in love with for nine years is gay. I felt bad for her, but there isn't much I can do now. I'm pretty sure she hates me.

After a bit more, it was time to go. I wouldn't have noticed if Stan hadn't pulled me up, Ike apparently long-gone off my lap.

We started sliding out of the row, but were interrupted by the Broflovskis.

"Stan, come here for a second." Sheila said.

"Oh shit." Stan mumbled to me, flipping his bangs out of his eyes.

I smiled at him, and he took a deep breath as he made his way to Kyle's parents. Ike wasn't with them.

I knew what they were saying was probably none of my buisness, but I strained to listen. I could only make out bits and pieces here and there. I made out 'love, 'tell us', 'upset', and 'sex'. Mrs. Broflovski's face was red as Stan said something, her eyes tearing. Mr. Broflovski was standing beside her with his arms crossed, his face holding no expression. Stan had his back to me, but I could tell he was wiping his eyes.

I sighed, glancing around to see if anyone was still here. I saw basically no one, the last of them exiting the church. I noticed the Goth kids leaving, but one of them was missing. The tall one.

I saw him standing in the back corner of the church, closest to the door. He was leaning against the wall in his usual black Tripp pants and combat boots. His white muscle shirt was delicately clinging to his skinny, frail body, with his long black trench coat over it. His jaw was set, his long curly black hair lining his face perfectly to where he looked like Andy Sixx but with dark curls. Even though his bangs were almost covering his eyes, I could tell he was staring at me.

I stared right back at him, my blue eyes meeting his dark ones. He pressed his lips together, his gaze lingering on me for a few more seconds before starting out the door, not once looking back.

I looked back at Stan and at Kyle's parents, and I saw that Mrs. Broflovski was clearly angry. I quickly opened my purse, taking out the picture of Stan and Kyle and marching over to them.

"Wendy-doll, now is not the time." Sheila sighed, exasperated.

"Just listen." I tried. "I know you're angry that Kyle was gay-"

"Damn right I'm mad!" She was fuming.

I took a deep breath before extending my arm out to show her the picture.

"Mrs. Broflovski, just look at this picture," I pressured. "Look at the look on Kyle's face. He was absolutely in love with Stan. I don't know about you, but I've never seen anyone ever look at someone like that."

Sheila snatched the photo from my hand, bringing it up to her face to examine it. The redness in her face started fading away, and she sighed. I exchanged glances with Stan, both of us nervous.

Mrs. Broflovski handed me the picture back, and without so much of a glance in our direction, stormed out of the church along with Mr. Broflovski and Ike, who appeared from nowhere.

Stan sighed, licking his lips. "Well that went well."

"She'll come around," I assured him.

I bit my lip, looking down at the picture in my hands. This was taken only two weeks ago. It amazed me how one second could alter fate completely. That one second delay of trying to push the breaks is what cost Kyle his life. If he had seen the car one second earlier, none of this would be happening. Kyle would still be alive.

"Stan?" He looked up at me when I said this.

"Yeah, Wends?" He asked as we started walking out towards the door.

"Here." I said, handing him the picture. "I want you to have it."

Stan took it from me, looking down at it and smiling a small, sad smile. He put it in the inside pocket of his jacket. "Thanks."

I just nodded in response, and as we walked outside, I noticed it was raining. Not that cold, dark winter rain, but a nice, warm spring rain. It seemed so fitting, just coming out of a funeral to rain. It smelled like... earth, I guess, after rain. That soil-esque smell that you can't hate.

"Hey, Stan?" We both whipped our heads to see Kenny coming towards us.

Kenny stopped in front of Stan, sighing. His dirty blonde hair was wet and sticking to his face, his bright blue eyes alert. Kenny, I have to admit, is gorgeous. He was wearing black skinny jeans with his usual beat-up converse, and a black hoodie.

"... Hi." Stan nodded.

"I'm sorry." Kenny pressed his lips together. "This is all my fault. If I hadn't been driving so fast, this would've never happened and Kyle would still... fuck, man, I'm sorry."

Stan's face went blank, his body rigid. "What's done is done. I'm sorry doesn't fix shit, McCormick. Stop being nice to me, you don't like me, I don't like you."

Stan started walking away angrily, and I debated whether I should go after him, but Kenny grabbed my hand.

"Wendy," He said.

"Yeah?"

"Please just tell him... I don't even fucking know, he hates me and he's never going to forgive me for this." Kenny wiped his eyes on his sleeve.

"He'll come around." I said to him, the same words I said to Stan earlier.

"I hope." Kenny whispered, then he smiled slightly at me before turning on his heel and walking away.

The rain was coming down harder now, and I took off my heels, putting them in my purse, ignoring my cell phone that was ringing repeatedly with my parents calling for my pick-up. I had this heavyness in my heart, the kind you're supposed to get at a funeral. But as I walked down the steps, beginning my long walk home, it started fluttering away. I looked over my shoulder for a brief second, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw Kyle standing there. I looked again, and he was gone. Maybe, just maybe, Kyle has something in store for us all.

There's chapter one. The ending sort of bothers me, I don't like it much XD But please review, and chapter two will be coming out sometime!